All That Glitters Is Gold
by ionica01
Summary: Jirou always finds excuses to think Kaminari is joking when he tells her he loves her. Until she doesn't. Or the five times Jirou questions her feelings (and one time she doesn't). Already established relationship; can be read as a sequel to Home Is Where Jirou Is but works as a stand-alone, too.


**AN: **Hi folks!

Haven't written Kmjr in a while, so I'm a bit rusty, but this was a gift for the lovely Cow over on the kmjr discord (which you should deffo join if you love this pairing!) so I hope you'll enjoy! As stated, this has many parallels and easter eggs from my other kmjr oneshot, Home Is Where Jirou Is, but works perfectly well as a stand alone, too.

Without further ado, here's the fic!

* * *

**All That Glitters is Gold  
****or Five Times Jirou Questions Her Feelings (And One Time She Doesn't)**

The first time, Jirou sighs only to stifle a laugh and shakes her head to hide the fond smile that relentlessly tugs at her lips.

She had an okay-ish day. Nothing worth raiding her ginger ale stack, but nothing to make her pull her headphones over her messy hair and blast metal just to cover up her loud thoughts either. As far as herowork goes, Jirou could describe her day as uneventful - there's nothing remarkable about apprehending robbers.

There is, however, something remarkable about your friend telling you she's going to get married. Jirou is 22 and unable to wrap her head around the reality of having a boyfriend - a loud and sappy boyfriend, but that was the package deal: get one sunny Kaminari with a mandatory side dish of adorable idiot and hopeless romantic -, so Ashido dumping the news that she's getting _married_ left Jirou momentarily speechless and deeply befuddled.

Plopping herself onto the sofa and loosening a long breath, Jirou draws the guitar out of its case and lets its familiar weight press on her thighs. She strums the first few chords of this love song she doesn't even _know_ and mentally curses Kaminari for getting it stuck in her head - it's hard _not_ to hum along when that's all he's been singing while pouring coffee into her mug or drying off his damp hair after the morning shower. Despite his infatuation with the song, she could never quite catch the lyrics that he mutters under his breath, and it appears to be obscure enough that the few disparate words she's caught turn blank in a google search.

The thought itches at the back of her mind.

Whatever the song is called, Jirou can easily recreate it on her guitar, and tunes out every other sound save for her heartbeat and the melody streaming from her fingertips. It's soothing enough that it settles among her aimless thoughts nicely - it might have something to do with the electric smile she associates it with, too, but Jirou decides not to dwell on the brief image that pops into her head. It's just his overwhelming cheesiness rubbing off her, she's sure of it.

Her thoughts drift back to Ashido, and Jirou tries breaking apart the concept of _marriage._ The stability and relative boredom that Jirou's mind instantly links it to far from suit the imprevisible ball of energy that is Ashido. Her friend is gossip, provocative shorts and even more daring low cuts, she's teasing and flirting, and Jirou just _can't _label her as "wife material". No offense to Kirishima.

Jirou's fingers come to a halt on the chords, and her heartbeat quietens, if only for a moment, to give her the almost-silence she craves. Ever since she's moved in with Kaminari, Jirou's been wondering if _silence_ even exists in the Pikachu-dictionary - when he's not talking, he's humming, and when he's not humming, he's snoring in deep sleep, and Jirou just pokes his baby cheeks and watches his nose scrunch up in response.

The fleeting thought that the silence engulfing her now is heavy and lingers in the empty apartment for a beat too long drifts through her mind, but it's quickly dispelled by the doorbell that makes her jump to her feet.

The ringing is not insistent, but Jirou rushes to the door all the same, because Kaminari has a key and nobody visits _her_ except for Momo, who makes a point out of calling beforehand, so-

Really, the moment she opens the door, she knows she should have expected it. She really should have taken into account that her boyfriend tends to make stupid decisions more often than not, and she should also have prepared a badge of honor for Kirishima by now. He gives her a sheepish smile, and he would no doubt scratch the side of his cheek if not for his arms being looped around an obviously drunk and very much asleep Kaminari.

"I really thought he'd resist the urge to compete with Bakugou this time," Kirishima says by way of apology, and Jirou just snorts. He jabs the drowsy blond in his side. "Dude? You're home."

"Ayee!" Kaminari mutters and plops onto Jirou's shoulder, her jacks effectively preventing him from meeting the floor in his senseless swaying. His forehead rubs against her shoulder and he lets out a soft purr that sends goosebumps down her arms, because her hearing is so damn good that she makes out her muffled name in the back of his throat.

She'd rather not get embarrassed by this drunk mess, so she adjusts her jacks around his figure and gives Kirishima a thankful smile, "Sorry for the trouble."

"Likewise," Kirishima says as he waves goodbye.

Before he can leave, Jirou calls after him, "Congratulations! Ashido told me!"

The man's face turns a shade of red that would make his hair envious, and he mutters his thanks and a fondly amused, "You're invited - once Mina decides which place is _worthy_ of our presence, as she puts it." Jirou just chuckles at that and assures them they'll be present as long as he promises not to place Bakugou and Kaminari at the same table unless there's no alcohol within a five meter radius, and Kirishima heartily laughs before leaving for good.

That leaves Jirou with two problems: one of them is drooling on her chest, and the other one is a smudge of black that she now spots on her favourite hoodie - it's actually Kaminari's hoodie, but she's hogged it enough times that it should belong to her wardrobe now with no qualms.

"Oi," she pokes his forehead, but to no avail. It's only once she's half-lifted-half-dragged him to the sofa and managed to disentangle his limbs from the koala-hold they have on her that she can push his head off her shoulder and snort at the small puff of discomfort he offers through when his neck hits the backrest. The snort evolves into cackling when she recognizes Sero's smudged writing on Kaminari's forehead - although blurry, she can read "Jirou's Property" spelled out in big kanjis.

"You absolute dufus," she manages between chortles, taking a quick photo to replace his contact picture - this is even better than his dumb electrocuted face. She even considers making it her background, but immediately dismisses the thought because she's _not that_ girlfriend.

As soon as Kaminari hears the click of the camera, though, he springs back to life like one of those jack in the box toys and grabs Jirou's wrist. Her eyes lift from the screen to meet his blurry ones, and he mutter-purrs her name again. "What?" she demands, annoyance hiding the flustered surprise in her voice.

"Do you - do you like someone?"

Jirou can't quite decide if he's just _that_ drunk or if this is all just an elaborate scheme to get her to say the words he so casually throws around when they're alone, so she settles for a safe, "Yes." When he tears up, she quickly concedes he just _is_ that drunk. "Don't worry, he's kind of an idiot."

"Really?" he tilts his head and squints, as if something doesn't quite add up. "But you're so _smart_." The small pause he takes isn't enough for Jirou to sass him around, and his following words wipe away any coherent string of words in her mind anyway. "And pretty. You have really beautiful eyes, Jirou."

She stares at him for God knows how long, and startles when his fingers brush away some stubborn curls behind her ear. Kaminari nods to himself, as if he's confirmed a theory too intricate to share, and Jirou keeps staring, because half an year of dating Kaminari is nowhere near enough to get used to these honest gestures of his that she's so bad at initiating.

"Are you-" her throat is so incredibly dry "-is your head spinning?"

Kaminari shakes his head and looks like he regrets his decision immediately. Still, he doesn't talk as he inches in, his nose skimming against her cheek. He's warm and he tastes like cheap beer, and his drunk-kissing skills are far from top-notch, but Jirou still needs to fist her fingers around his collar to anchor herself.

He breaks away with a smirk curling his lips, leaving Jirou breathless. "Better than the idiot?" he asks, his words drawled out by the alcohol, but his eyes glittering like gold.

She finds enough air for a wheezy laugh, and gives him a bemused smile. "Much better," she says, the words making him break into a wide grin. "I can't believe I didn't record you though, I wanted to see your reaction when you wake up tomorrow," she adds as an afterthought as she forces herself up to get him a glass of water and an aspirin.

His fingers remain looped around her wrist even as she gently tugs her hand free. "Jirou," Kaminari insists as she tries to subtly escape, and she hums a question. "I love you."

She freezes at the three words that fall out of his mouth, and searches for the "I'm just kidding" look, only to be met by the "I'm dead serious" one. She tries not to groan - he's drunk and won't even remember any of it the next morning, anyway. It's not like Kaminari actually _loves_ her - Jirou shushes the voice in the back of her mind that whispers he might have meant it, because if that's true, she has no idea what to _do _with a word as intimidatingly huge as _love_.

So Jirou leans down to peck his cheek and mutters, "Go to sleep, Pikachu."

* * *

The second time, Jirou's heartbeat is louder than the music engulfing the silence, and she's worried he might hear it, too.

She's always considered herself a hero suited for night patrols and secret missions - Jirou is quiet, but she's a good listener; she's not flashy, but she's efficient. If people like Midoriya and Kaminari, with their wide, sunny smiles, are meant to reassure the civilians through public presence, Jirou does so by constantly looking over them from the shadows. Kaminari says she's like the moon, hidden from sight by clouds, but always there - then again, Kaminari also calls her his Queen, so she's not sure he's a trustworthy source.

Amajiki takes over the shift, and she bows politely before letting him resume the late night stroll, tensing up at every amiss sound. She can empathise with her senpai. Not many heroes are willing to pick up night shifts, but for less spotlight-hogging people like them, it's the ideal option. Momo and Kaminari sometimes bring up the idea of Jirou abandoning solo undercover missions and joining raid teams, but she jokes her way around it every time.

Jirou closes her eyes and inhales the crisp air, filling her lungs with the fresh scent of night - it's cold, and it smells of flowers from the nearby shop, closing up after the accounting was done for. The owner seems to recognize her, despite her wearing civilian clothes, and he raises a hand in greeting. Jirou waves her jacks back, biting down on a simper - she enjoys this sort of distant attention, where she doesn't have to stop for autographs or press conferences.

Deep down, she knows this is just her lurking in her comfort zone, just like she does whenever she dismisses the thought of marriage. The outside of her perimeter seems way too bright for her to fit in, and so Jirou maintains the feeble balance she's built her life around: her heartbeat, music, hero work and friends, Kaminari. It's a comfortable enough circle to wander about.

Jirou turns the key in the knob and expects to walk into the deadly quiet of her apartment, enveloped in nothing but the rhythmical boom of her heartbeat. To her surprise, music filters out of the living room, and Jirou tiptoes to the threshold to find Kaminari sitting cross-legged on the floor, strumming the guitar in the empty and dark room.

He used to suck back in high school, Jirou ponders as she pads over and sits down in front of him. His eyes leave the instrument for a moment, but his fingers keep playing as if they've memorised the pattern. The smile that tugs at his lips is tamed, and it reminds Jirou of the setting sun in the way it doesn't blind her, and in the whirlwind of emotions it stirs within her.

She knows the song - it's the one he's been humming for weeks now, the one Jirou knows every note to but no lyrics of. She crosses her legs on the small rug and closes her eyes, listening to the guitar - _her_ guitar -, to the way Kaminari makes it vibrate, to her own heartbeat, and feels her eyelids turn to lead and her head lulls against a wall of warmth.

The music stops, and Jirou's eyes flutter open when Kaminari's arms loop around her waist and he pulls her in his arms. "I can walk, you know?" she drawls out in an yawn, but doesn't fight his hold too much.

"I know," he answers. She can't quite see his face - the crook of his neck, where her nose is buried into his wispy scent, is too comfortable to leave - but she hears the smile in his voice. "I just figured you wanted a ride."

Jirou has enough energy to snort, but not enough to hold onto his neck when he gently drops her on the bed. Kaminari, somehow, can read the thoughts Jirou never voices though, and after setting the guitar in its case and slinging it over the backrest of the armchair, he returns to their room, shuffling under the covers and circling a lazy arm around her waist.

She's still wearing her jeans and sweater - _his _sweater, if she was awake enough to care for semantics. Without the crisp night air whipping her cheeks, Jirou feels drowsy, and she can't muster the energy to fish her pajama from under her pillow and get changed. The warmth Kaminari exudes next to her doesn't help in her "put on your pajamas" quest, either, and Jirou eventually admits defeat and curls into her boyfriend, his low chuckle washing over her.

There's the ghost of a kiss lingering on her forehead and three muffled words her mind can't be bothered to make out as she lets sleep take over.

* * *

The third time, Jirou is breathing heavily, and she hangs onto him tightly.

She's cradling his numb body into her arms, ignoring the deafening cries around her and the repulsive smell of blood - _his _blood - that scratches at all her senses. She should run, she should fight, she should call for backup, she should do _anything_, but all she _can_ do is shake Kaminari's wearied shoulders and swallow back the bile rising in her throat.

His face is so, _so_ pale, frozen in the reassuring smile he gave her when he jumped in to shield her, and Jirou feels a familiar sting in the back of her eyes. For the first time in her life, she wishes her hearing was failing her, because she can't pick up his heartbeat. All she can make out is the thundering booming of her own heart, and the shrill cry that leaves her throat as hot tears roll down her blood-stained cheeks.

"_KAMINARI!"_

Jirou jolts to a sitting position, and her spine hunches with a sob as she takes in the darkness of her bedroom. It was a nightmare, she reasons, but reason is not enough to stop the tears that stream down her face and the sobs that ripple out of her.

A quick 360 of the room tells Jirou that Kaminari isn't there, and she feels panic twist her gut as she scrambles from beneath the sheets that stick to her body, slicked with sweat. Light is filtering from underneath the bedroom door, so he must be there, Jirou tells her wobbly knees, but it's pointless, because her vision is blurry, and her ears are flooded by the erratic beating of her heart, and-

"Jirou?"

Her head shoots up at his worried voice. She doesn't know when he opened the door or what he was doing awake this late, but she can't muster the energy to ask. Relief washes over her, and she crosses the distance to him, crashing into his chest and digging her nails into his back because she needs to hear his heart and to feel his warm breath on her forehead, and she needs him to loop his arms around her and annoy her with some stupid joke that Jirou will happily snort at because he's _alive_.

Even as he hugs her tightly, sobs shudder through her, and her fingers tremble as she forcefully kneads them into his shirt. She's probably ruining one of his favourite pun-shirts, but he doesn't seem to care as he runs a hand through her hair and mutters, "It's okay, it's okay, I've got you, it was only a nightmare, you're fine, I'm fine, we're fine."

Jirou knows he has them too - her insanely good ears pick up his muffled cries for help at the crack of dawn, and she can feel him tighten his grasp on her whenever he has a nightmare. It's the toll they have to pay for cheating death, and it's only made bearable by his presence _here_ and _now_.

She eventually calms down enough to raise her face from his chest, and she meets golden eyes dampened by concern. Kaminari's thumb runs soothing circles into the small of Jirou's back, his other hand pressing between her shoulder blades - according to Todoroki, there's a pressure point there or something.

"Better?" Kaminari asks, his voice enveloping her in safety.

Her fingers let go of the creases they made into the material of his shirt, and she smiles weakly. "A little," she says hoarsely, and clears her throat before trying again. "Sorry for ruining your shirt."

Kaminari snorts, smoothing her hair behind an ear. "Don't sweat it. Besides, a shirt with Jirou's tears? This is a national treasure! I shall never wash it again."

"Gross," she grimaces, a small and uncertain chuckle leaving her lips.

Kaminari's eyes glimmer at the reaction, and a small smile tugs at his lips as he presses them to the crown of her hair. "Milk?" he asks. She nods, letting him pull her into the kitchen - it's not like she can fall asleep now, anyway. Closing her eyes for longer than a blink will only make her relive the nightmare, and she'd much rather be listening to bad jokes right now.

Kaminari pulls the kitchen door open, and Jirou climbs on the small island in the middle of the cramped room, waiting as he pours them both a glass of fresh milk and stuffs the mugs in the microwave. As they wait for the familiar ding, Kaminari starts humming his new favourite song, tapping his fingers on Jirou's thigh to the rhythm. She fishes two straws out of a nearby drawer and uses them as drumsticks on his head, snickering at the advantage the height of the island gives her.

She really should have expected Kaminari using her position against her, grabbing her waist and lifting her above his head to spin her around. He drops her unceremoniously when the ding echoes in the small room, and Jirou jumps back on the counter to enjoy her midnight drink, accompanied by the mandatory cookies - courtesy of Sato being as sweet as his cakes and complying with Kaminari's insane requests.

"What were you working on?" Jirou asks after the third cookie - she's certain hero's diets are supposed to be stricter than this, but midnight snacks have always worked for her and Kaminari, ever since back at UA. Thinking about it now, it was on one of their late night escapades that Jirou was hit with the realisation that she liked this Pikachu - her past self would snort at the thought of sharing chocolate cookies with Kaminari five years later, and yet here they are.

"That report about yesterday's mission," he hums, and Jirou shudders. The cause of the bandage wrapped around his arm. The cause of her nightmare. "Jirou?" he calls, inching closer to her and brushing his fingers against her cheek. "You're pale."

"It's nothing," she says, leaning into his touch.

His eyes are so close that Jirou can see the specks of light brown swirling in the golden irises, and she wonders if the sun is supposed to look so concerned. Then the sun blinks and it goes back to being Kaminari, the same mixture of worry and confusion darkening his face.

Jirou presses her forehead against his. "Don't give me that look," she huffs.

"How can I not?" He sounds mildly exasperated. "You wake up crying and screaming my name, and then you close yourself up."

"I was… screaming?" Jirou pulls away, only for Kaminari to knot his fingers in the hair at the back of her neck and pull her back where his breath can wash over her. She knows it's his way of encouraging her to talk, but she's not sure if she can tell him he _died_ in her nightmare without losing whatever semblance of calm she's gained. "The mission… In my dream, the mission failed," she eventually says, barely a whisper.

"Oh," is all Kaminari has to offer as understanding settles in. And then his arms are wrapped around her, and his voice seems to turns his words into a promise carved in stone, "I'll always protect you, Jirou. Nothing will happen to you as long as I'm here."

Jirou is torn between smiling and crying, so she does both, for good measure. The single tear that rolls down her lower lashes is absorbed by Kaminari's collar, and she realizes there's really only one thing she can say, "Me too. I've always got your back."

Kaminari pulls away to squish her cheeks, and she's pretty sure she looks like a fish with her puffy eyes and her lips pushed together like that, but Kaminari looks at her with a fondness she can only describe because it's the same overwhelming feeling that envelops her when he falls asleep on her shoulder on a roadtrip in Bakugou's way too expensive car, or when he orders two types of smoothies because Jirou can't decide on a single flavor, or when he greets her with her favourite horrible joke, or when - it's an infinite list, really, and Jirou is stopped from plucking through it by Kaminari's words.

"And that's why I love you."

Jirou blinks. Once. Twice. Thrice is when she musters the energy to open her mouth, and also when Kaminari interrupts whatever snark was about to spill off her tongue - her best comeback was "Did you hit your head?", so maybe it's a good thing that he kisses her before she can embarrass herself with such a cheap reply.

He breaks away with a grin and doesn't wait for her to wrap her mind around his words before saying, "If you can't sleep, do you want to play Mario Kart?"

"You're on!" Jirou smirks, and his confession is promptly buried in the depths of her mind by the sweet feeling of sabotaging Kaminari in video games.

* * *

The fourth time, Jirou wants to cry again, but only because Kaminari enjoys emotional musicals and she can only take so many sad songs before the urge to pick up her guitar and learn them takes over.

"I'm declaring this a movie sleepover!" Kaminari says as way of greeting, stepping into the living room without taking his shoes off and shaking a DVD case excitedly in front of Jirou's eyes.

She stabs him with her jacks to urge him back into the hallway and gives his muddy shoes a disapproving look. When he's finally slipped out of them and shrugged his jacket off, she sighs, "You can't have a sleepover at your own place, Pikachu."

"But I _can_ have a movie night!" he grins, his mood not dampened in the least by Jirou's pragmatic outlook. He grabs her wrist and drags her to the sofa, pushing her gently onto the couch as he inserts the DVD and toys with the remote.

"Is it a cringe musical again?" Jirou asks, mostly rhetorically. With Kaminari, it's either that or crappy scifi movies, but he mostly subjects Sero and Kirishima to those atrocities, keeping only the cream of the crop for her - and by that, she means the absolutely _worst_ of the worst movies he can get his hands on.

"I feel deeply offended!" Kaminari mocks hurt, clutching a hand over his heart. "_A Star Is Born _is _not_ cringe! It is a masterpiece starring Lady Gaga!"

"Uh-huh," Jirou hums, crossing her arms unconvinced. Kaminari frowns at her, throwing his backpack into her lap before proceeding to dig out snacks from their endless supplies in the kitchen - Yaomomo would truly be disappointed by the amount of junk food they possess at all times; Ochako would be drooling. It's precisely why their stash of Pringles and pudding is smartly blocked from view by walls of medicine no one would ever push aside upon visiting.

Jirou unzips the bag to scoop out a bottle of Dr. Pepper and one of Fanta, and when Kaminari returns with nachos and salsa and cheese dips, Jirou quirks an eyebrow at him. "Are you trying to bait me? Because I'm ashamed at how well it's working."

"Maybe," he winks, plopping onto the sofa and slinging an arm over the backrest, his hand dangling over Jirou's shoulder. "Are we good to go?"

"Mhm," she answers, a chip already in her mouth when Kaminari presses play.

She honestly expects the movie to be a typical romance flick, so she's taken aback by the acting and soundtrack. When Kaminari notices her slack jaw during the performance of _Shallow_, she half expects him to poke fun at her, but he's too engrossed to be a smartass.

She likes Ally - there's something about her punching that guy in the bar and the way she treats Jackson like a pain in the butt despite his stardom that Jirou can find herself resonating with. She makes the mistake of almost identifying with her - until Ally, the same Ally that went on an impromptu concert tour and started her singing career on a whim, gets married.

Jirou is suddenly back in her head, back in the tornado of emotions that sweeps her up, back in the shadow of hugely imposing commitments, and she wonders why freedom-loving people like Ally and Ashido get _married_. She feels like even her maid of honor dress is too tight and having to hold a toast too much, so Jirou can't even begin to imagine what it's like to be the one walking down the aisle in the white dress.

"-right?"

Kaminari's words waltz through one of her ears and out the other, but they manage to snap Jirou out of her thoughts. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Nevermind," Kaminari says - is he sighing? - and squeezes Jirou's shoulder. "Aww, look, isn't that little girl adorable?!"

"Yeah."

* * *

The fifth time, Jirou is confused when the words leave her mouth, but she doesn't take them back.

Jirou still doesn't like the press and Kaminari still tells her, "It's just like getting up on stage and singing. You only have to face the music." The words echo in her mind and she remembers to smile when a flash blinds her. Admittedly, she's getting better at this - her small, but steadily growing fandom noticed it too. It's in no small part due to Kaminari practicing interviews with her - his impersonations of some of the nosier journalists are perfect, and Jirou laughs so hard that her nervousness simply fades away.

She's getting better with slow steps, but she's getting there - as long as the questions are about her work, she can't stumble. And then one of the gossip lovers just has to ask, "Were you invited to Pinky and Red Riot's wedding?"

"Of course," Jirou smiles to cover the nervousness - her gut feeling tells her this is not simple curiosity about her friend's invitations list. "Ashido asked all of the 3A alumni to come."

"Did the invitation stir any thoughts of marriage in you and ChargeBolt?"

Jirou freezes, and it's all she can do to not drop to the ground and roll in a ball. She should have prepared for this question, what with the upcoming wedding of their friends and her dating Kaminari for almost an entire year now, but she frankly has no answer for the nosy journalist - saying 'yes' is out of the question, but 'no' would also be a lie. She's been trying to imagine herself as a wife, been trying not to cower in the face of big words like _love_ and _forever_.

She's been failing so far.

And then Kaminari saves the day, because he always knows just what to say.

"That's an unexpected question, given than an year ago, a journalist told us we were, and I quote, "like day and night". I guess that proves we've come a long way," he pauses to give the cameras an electrifying smile, but Jirou knows it's actually directed at her. "We're going at our own pace," he confidently concludes.

"You're still very slow," Jirou jokes before she can stop herself. She bites her lower lip as his eyes widen marginally, but they quickly settle in a lazy expression she's seen on him so often, and she loosens a breath.

"I'm working on it," he laughs, and Jirou can't help the chuckle that escapes her.

Being with Kaminari is so easy that she wonders how she hasn't seen it until now. The journalists don't dare pry any more into their personal lives, and Jirou regains her footing, trying not to think about how many of the fan letters will address her slip-up now.

/

"Well now, that's done," Jirou idly yawns, stretching her arms above her head.

Kaminari falls into pace beside her. Jirou can feel his curious gaze on her, but pretends not to notice it, because she's not entirely sure how to explain her previous words either. "You seem in a really good mood," Kaminari notices, tilting his head questioningly.

"Is it that surprising?" She knows his answer before he voices it.

"A bit." He's smiling, remembering the same conversation they had almost an year ago. She jabs him with her jacks playfully, but he still feigns pain and gasps, "Ouch!" She rolls her eyes as he repeats, "You just don't like being in the public eye that much."

"It's not that bad if I have an attention-hogging idiot with me." He laughs at her jest warmly.

"Jirou," he suddenly says through the laughter, stopping in his tracks. Jirou takes one more step before turning on her heels to face the music. 'Did you really mean what you said back there?"

The sky is bleeding purple, and Jirou finds herself looking at the whirlwind of colours, for once feeling at peace - the yellow blends into the lila, and the resulting image is so breathtaking that Jirou feels lightheaded. She starts humming the song that's been stuck in her head for months, the song Kaminari still hums when he showers without giving her any clue to the lyrics.

"What's this called?" she eventually asks, still looking at the slowly setting sun.

"Hmm?" Jirou hums it for him some more, and Kaminari perks up. "It's _Love Drunk_." He clears his throat, demanding Jirou's attention, and her eyes snap back to his, reflecting the colours of the skyline and veiling everything with a thin layer of gold. "It goes like this: _I like to throw 'em back slow/ A few in a row/ Till I get on a roll with you, Honey."_

He stops after the first verses and scratches the back of his neck. Jirou just cocks an eyebrow, "You sing that every morning, but you're getting cold feet now?"

Jirou feels her eyebrows lowering on her forehead, a crease poking at the bridge of her nose as Kaminari lets out a prolonged sigh. "You're incorrigible, Jirou. What's a guy gotta do to drill it into your head that he loves you?"

Jirou stares at him like she stared at Ashido when she told her she was getting married, and she feels her jaw go slack. Her mouth dries out and her throat bobs when she swallows.

The worst part is, this isn't even her first time hearing it.

"And then you say _I'm _slow?" He puffs, but he doesn't look angry. If anything, he's slightly baffled and very much amused. "I love you, but you sure know how to drive me insane," he laughs. His laughter, however, dies out just as abruptly as it started, replaced by concern as he squints, "Uhm, Jirou? Earth to Jirou?" He waves a hand in front of her face, and Jirou finally snaps out of her trance, shaking her head.

"Kaminari," she says, cupping his cheeks to force herself to look at him. He makes _love_ sound so easy - almost like a game, or a secret weapon to one-up her. Jirou won't lose to that trickery.

"I love you too."

It tumbles off her tongue a bit clumsily, but it's easy enough to finally name her feelings. It's not the most original name ever, but it leaves Kaminari gawking at her, and she smirks a little as she pushes his jaw closed and pecks his lips.

Twirling around on her heels, Jirou calls over her shoulder, "We really need to stop by the supermarket. Sero totally raided our fridge this morning, Pikachu, and it's all your fault."

Kaminari, to his credit, only needs about fifteen seconds to process Jirou's words and catch up to her. "You're a real handful, you know that?" he says with a fond smile.

Jirou intertwines their hands and smirks, "I know."

* * *

Ashido looks dazzling in her dress, and she's wearing a smile even more brilliant than the diamond that sparkles on her finger or the glitter embedded into the veil covering her pink face. Everyone's gathered here already, and half the invitees are blowing their noses as the happy couple waves at them.

"Bet you'd look amazing in that," Kaminari teases Jirou after Ashido frees her from a suffocating hug and moves onto squeezing Uraraka to death.

Jirou raises an eyebrow, and Kaminari just grins. A taunt, then. "I'd rock it, of course. Not sure if I can say the same about you in Kirishima's suit."

Kaminari grimaces, "Red is not my colour, Jirou. But I _would_ rock Ashido's dress."

She snorts at that, wheezing at the look of mock hurt Kaminari puts on. She hits his shoulder playfully, wiping a tear from her eye at the image of him in a wedding dress - he isn't lying, he'd be a sight for sore eyes in that. "Tell you what, Pikachu. When we get married, I'll show up in a suit and you come in the dress."

He stares at her like she grew a second head, but then his face breaks into a beam that can only mean trouble. "So we're getting married?"

Jirou would normally either blush madly and jab him with her jacks or pick fun at him. Somehow, he must have turned her into enough of an idiot that she only hums, deep in thought, and says, "If you man up enough to propose to me, you'll know."

And with that, she turns on her heels and waves him goodbye, making for the bar on the other side of the room, where she spots her best friend. Yaomomo waves her way, and Jirou bites back on her grin as she mirrors the gesture.

Kaminari remains behind in stunned silence, but Jirou doesn't need to turn around to know he's grinning wildly. She doesn't know what she's been so afraid of: with that confused smile and dorky face, he makes _forever_ seem like child's play.

Untangling his hair would _definitely _take longer.

* * *

AN: Hello!

I hope you've enjoyed this! I absolutely adore this pairing and hope to write more for them in the future because ahhh quality banter and puns? Count me IN.  
Lemme know what you thought:) Your love and comments keeps me alive!


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